I've Not Forgotten You
by WitchGirl
Summary: Sara finally introduces Grissom to her mother, and he learns it’s not their troubled past that makes their relationship so rocky, but the lack thereof. GSR drabble.


I've Not Forgotten You

**Summary:** Sara finally introduces Grissom to her mother, and he learns it's not their troubled past that makes their relationship so rocky, but the lack thereof. GSR drabble.

_**Author's Note:**_ I wrote this late one night about two months ago and never posted it because it felt lacking in something. I realize there's a bit of an AU going on here. If the style is confusing to the extent that it impairs in you understanding who's saying and doing what, please say so. It was an attempt at being interesting which tends to fail miserably. I'm still not happy with this, but... I'm bored so it's getting posted. First _real _GSR fic (any GSR oriented fic had been only hints in the past-- this is saturated with it) so enjoy.

* * *

She squeezed his hand tightly as though it meant the difference between whether he would understand or not. She felt as though, if she let go, he would be lost without her as his guide. It was more for his sake than for hers, or so she told herself. So that he would feel comfortable in the exceedingly awkward situation she was about to plunge him into. She didn't want to admit that it was _she_ who felt the most nervous. But it was OK. Because he could sense all her anxiety in her touch anyway.

"Sara," he whispered quietly. "You're cutting off my circulation."

"Oh," she piped, instantly relinquishing her death grip on him. Instead, she wrung out her hands as though they were a soaking wet dishtowel that she intended to dry completely. "Sorry," she said. "I just… I don't want you to get lost."

He laughed lightly, his voice low and calm. Just as stoic as ever. "I don't need a map to find my way around in this place," he assured her. "I'm not that senile yet."

She stopped walking and looked at him, her eyes twin pools of unadulterated fear and he immediately winced as he realized his mistake. He gave her a reassuring smile and softly stroked her hair, cradling her cheek as he made her look him in the eyes. "I'm sorry," he said sincerely. "I shouldn't joke. I know you're hypersensitive about that sort of thing right now. I guess I'm just a little nervous after all."

It took a moment, but a smile slowly curled her lips. "Liar," she said. "You're never nervous about anything."

"I was nervous about you," he replied.

She gave him a playful smirk. "Now not so much?"

He looked up at the ceiling and laughed again as he pulled her into a tender embrace. "Now more than ever," he said. "But it's an exciting kind of nervous."

She reveled in his closeness, feeling the rough stubble of his beard against her cheek. "I love you too, Gil," she whispered for his ears only.

When they pulled apart, he looked at her expectantly. "Are you OK now?" he asked. Slowly, she nodded. He grinned. "Good. Because I think this is her room."

She turned around and found herself in front of the door she had faced countless times in her nightmares. 702 was announced clearly by large black numbers mounted on the door. In her dreams, she could never open it. But with him by her side, she could conquer the world. Slowly and carefully, she knocked before her fingers curled around the brass doorknob and she opened the door.

She poked her head in and saw an older woman sitting by the window in a rocking chair, looking at the placid lake reflecting the white sunlight. "Mom?" she said. The woman did not move. She grasped his hand again and pulled him inside. "Mom, I have someone I want you to meet." The woman still didn't move.

She sighed, and looked at him nervously, before approaching her mother and kneeling down in front of her chair. She tried to catch her mother's vacant stare. "Mom? Mom, it's me, Sara. I was here last week. Remember?"

The mother's blank gaze refocused from the window onto her daughter's desperate face and her brow furrowed in confusion. "Rose, dear, is that you?" Her voice was coarse but delicate, like unprocessed wool.

The daughter let out a long sigh. "No, Mom, Rose… died. Before I was born. My name is Sara. I'm your daughter?"

The mother became disinterested in this strange woman and she once again focused her gaze on the lake out the window. The daughter was frustrated as she rose to her feet and looked at him, standing alert by the door. He gave her an encouraging smile which inspired a hopeless laugh from her. She looked back at her ailing mother. "Mom, there's someone here you should meet," she said. She beckoned him over and he approached the two women. She took his hand again and he looked down at the older woman with gentle blue eyes. "Mom, this is Gil Grissom. He's my…" She faltered and glanced at him. "My very good friend."

The mother blinked, then looked up at her daughter through clouded brown eyes. "Rose, dear, what have you brought with you? What a strange place this world has become…"

He knelt down in front of the sick woman and took her hand in his, just as he had held her daughter's hand. This startled the woman and she pulled her hand away from him. "You don't touch me. Mother says that's how babies happen, by holding hands."

He smiled with his endless patience. "Laura, it's a pleasure to meet you," he said, as though he were talking to any normal individual. "Isn't it a lovely day out?"

Her daughter looked irritated, doubting that this would rouse anything in the old lady, but his simple, gentle words made her features light up. "Ryan?" she said, her voice breathless. "Ryan, I thought you were dead…"

Trembling arms rose to embrace him and the old woman kissed his cheek. He returned the hug delicately, so as not to break her more than she already was. And as he held her there, tears began to leak from the old woman's eyes and fall upon his shoulder as she quivered with unimagined joy at the sight of a man she thought she knew.

Over the mother's shoulder, he could see his girlfriend's eyes were wide with shock, her mouth partially open. "Ryan was my father's name…" she whispered, incredulously.

"I'm sorry if I killed you," the mother was saying. "I know that you would never really change. I knew it was all a nightmare. I knew you were the same old Ryan you always were, before she came along. Before she changed you. She's not real. She's not real. She went away, far away. I don't love her more than you, Ryan, I would never love anyone more than you…"

The familiar stranger pulled away from the mother, who beamed at him as she took in trembling breaths. He looked up at his girlfriend, who seemed very perturbed as she shook on the spot.

"Sara?" he said. "Are you OK?"

She swallowed as she shook her head, unable to believe her own ears. "I… I always thought…" A tear leaked out of her own eye and she swallowed. "When he… got mad at her, when he would hit her… He would always… accuse her of paying… more attention to _me_ than to _him_… Like… he was… _jealous_ of me, but Mom never… I always thought that… after all he did to her, that I was the _only_ one she still loved… But I guess, love is a funny thing. You just… can't let go, even if… even if…"

It was clear to him who needed to be held and he immediately went to his girlfriend's aid, wrapping his arms around her as she stifled a sob in his chest. He hushed her as he stroked her hair. "She's not the same person she used to be, Sara," he whispered into her hair. "The disease has eaten away at her brain. She doesn't understand."

"I guess that's the best excuse you can have in the world," she whispered, "for hating your daughter…"

"Sara?"

She stopped and pulled away from him, looking over at her mother who was looking at her with a curious expression. Her breath caught in her throat as she slowly nodded. "Yes…" she said, walking over to her mother's chair. "Yes, Mom, it's me, it's Sara."

The mother's brow wrinkled in confusion and she put a hand to her forehead. "I just had the strangest idea that your father was back from the dead," she said. "And that he was going to hurt us again." Her frown dissolved into a smile as she held out her arms. "But I would have protected us. I would have kept you safe, my little sunshine." She gathered her daughter up in her arms and held her tightly. The daughter wept with a smile on her face as her mother began to hum an old song.

"_You are my sunshine, my only sunshine…_" But eventually, the music faded away and the grip she had on her daughter slackened. "Rose?" she said confused. Her daughter began to pull away, but the mother held on tightly again. "Oh Rose…" she said. "The world couldn't ask for a better sister. I hope that if I ever have children, they turn out to be even half as beautiful as you, and just as smart and sweet… Oh Rose…"

The daughter breathed in her mother's scent before pulling away from her again. "I'm sorry, Mom," she said. "But Auntie Rose was three times prettier than I am."

The blank stare had returned to Laura Sidle's face as she looked at her daughter, who sighed and looked up at her expecting boyfriend. "I think it's time to go, Gil," she said quietly, wiping away her tears.

He nodded and helped her to her feet again. She looked him in the eye. "Thanks for doing this for me," she said.

"I would do anything for you, Sara Sidle," he replied.

They headed towards the door. Laura's eyes did not follow them out, but just as they were leaving, she called out to them, suddenly.

"Ryan," she said. "Ryan, look at her… Look at our tiny, sweet little baby girl. Look at her… Oh God, she looks just like Rose… I bet she'll grow up to be a grand lady indeed."

Gil Grissom smiled slowly as he turned to Sara Sidle, who was watching her mother curiously. "Yes, Laura," he said, his eyes never leaving the angelic vision of his girlfriend. "A grand lady indeed."

Sara beamed at him.


End file.
